Coming Back Home
by DreamingGlass
Summary: Jamie Eppes is the lost sister of the Eppes brothers and now she is reluctantly coming back home for business reasons. However, it is impossible to avoid confrontations, romance, and danger.
1. Prologue: Flight back home

Disclaimer: Don't own anything from Numb3rs!

Summary: Jamie Eppes the "lost" sister of the Eppes brothers reluctantly comes back to California for business reasons. However, it is almost impossible to avoid any confrontations or any romance. DT, slight CA

A/N: This is mainly about Jamie Eppes and I know not a lot of people like to read about original characters but give it a chance please! This is also my very first fic so constructive criticism would be nice. Thanks!

**Prologue: Flight Back Home**

Jamie Eppes stared out the plane window as she ran her fingernails up and down her jeans. How she ended up on a plane back to California, she had no idea. Scratch that. The twenty-four year old knew perfectly well but it was necessary to stay in denial. She reached up to tuck her jet black hair behind her right ear and in doing so her elbow bumped into a little boy sitting next to her. He jumped and turned to her.

"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

He smiled and she noticed that his two front teeth were missing. He was maybe around three or four years old. Jamie glanced at the middle aged woman next to him. Her head was drooping and she was snoring slightly. It seemed to Jamie that the mother was having a well deserved rest.

"Yep. Yep. Yep. My name is Kyle. What's yours?"

"My name is Jamie. Shh. You don't want to wake up your mom," she whispered. Kyle giggled and covered his mouth with both his hands.

"Okay," he whispered.

Jamie gave him a rare smile. She raised an eyebrow when the Kyle reached down to pick up a book.

"Will you read this to me?" he asked. His toothless grin melted her heart. She took the book from him but froze when she saw the title.

_Good Night, Moon._

Her mother had read it to her on nights of loud thunderstorms in order to keep her mind off the sharp cracks and the sizzle of the lightning bolts. Don always made fun of her for being such a wuss while Charlie ignored the both of them in order to solve the equation that was floating in his already crowded brain. Jamie breathed in and mentally shook the thoughts away. She didn't need this now. She wasn't going back to California to have a nice sappy reunion. This was a business trip.

A trip that involved her oldest brother.

_Damn you, Fitzgerald. This is all your fault._

"Hey! Aren't you going to read?"

Jamie started in her seat. Her long hair brushed against Kyle. Smiling weakly, she threw her hair up into a bun and picked the book up from her lap. Then she began to read.

Jamie awoke to the low melody of Minuet in G. Her slender arm snaked out from beneath the white covers and groped for her cell phone on the mahogany dresser. Cursing the sun she lifted her head from under the hotel pillows. She moaned when she checked the clock. 6:04 a.m. The caller was not in his right mind and Jamie would have strangled him if she could. Which left her to wonder, who _was_ calling her during at this ungodly hour? She squinted at the Caller ID.

_Fitzgerald. Crap. My boss._

"This is Eppes," she said after clearing her throat. The static tickled her ears but the deep voice was still loud and clear.

"Eppes, it's me. You in LA yet?"

"Yes, sir."

She could almost hear him roll his eyes.

"Will you stop with the sir? Well, talk to your brother soon. Jackson's giving me shit about wanting the story now. He's afraid that TIME will get to it first. So hurry or else our jobs are on the line," Fitzgerald said. Jamie sighed.

"Again."

"No kidding. I'm serious though. Beat the crap out of your brother to get some info if you have to."

"Um hello? He's a FBI agent. I doubt the government will take that kindly. Even if I'm related to him," she replied. Fitzgerald laughed wearily.

"Right. Well, I'll hang up now."

"Ok-"

"Wait!"

Jamie put the phone back to her ear and frowned. She stood up from the bed but regretted it immediately when the cold draft teased her bare shoulders and feet.

"Just in case I have to remind you. I like my job. I _love_ it and I would very much like to _keep_ it," he answered. Jamie rolled her eyes as she reached for her towel.

"So no pressure or anything," she asked. He chuckled.

"No pressure. Later. _Be nice_," he warned.

"He's my brother for God's sake. What's he going to do?" she asked. _And didn't he just say beat the crap out of him?_

"Not give you info. Make you lose your job. Make _me_ lose-"

"Okay, okay. I'll play nice. Goodbye!" she assured him. _Not likely._ It didn't seem like her boss believed her either.

"Right. Call me when you have something."

"Will do. Bye," she said and then snapped her phone shut. She sat back on the bed and breathed in deeply. Her head dropped and she realized that she was holding a towel. There was no way she could go back to sleep now. Her thin hairs on the back of her neck rose slightly when she heard the sharp whine of sirens muffled by the glass windows. It just reminded her even more where she was. LA. She hadn't been here in two years and now she was back. To see her brother, no less.

She leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. If she had to write a story on the use of mathematics Jamie would be at least a little happier. She could handle Charlie even if the absent-mindedness annoyed her to the point of loss of temper. However Fitzgerald assigned her a story that involved the FBI when her supposed best friend and co-worker Tammy casually let their boss know that Jamie's eldest brother would be the perfect primary source. If only Jamie had socked her right then and there. Don's arrogance and coldness towards her would never change.

Neither would her indifference.

A/N: Reviews would be greatly appreciated! Constructive criticism please. Thanks for reading!


	2. She's Back

Disclaimer: Don't own Numb3rs!

A/N: Wow, thanks to those of you who reviewed! It was awesome getting feedback and I'll definitely try to improve my grammar. Well here's the first chapter. I'll also warn you that I do not know the geography of California very well. Therefore, the names of the cities, town squares, rivers, etc are all fake. Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

**She's Back**

Charlie Eppes stretched out his arms and groaned. He squinted when a solitary ray of light shone through his blue curtains. The bed creaked under his weight as his legs came from the covers. Charlie put his hand to his temple and could almost feel the veins pounding against his skin furiously. The sure signs of a hangover after a long night of scrawling away on his chalkboard. His stomach growled. When did he last have food? His brain calculated in a millisecond. 19 hours. _Why did I ignore Dad when he brought me something?_

From outside the door, he could hear soft chatter and the clanging of dishes. Charlie stood up and when he looked down he realized that he was still dressed in the clothes from the day before. Charlie stretched once more before stepping out of his room. He grinned when Don's voice rode along with the aroma of muffins. His stomach did some turns but it was highly doubtful that it was because of the unexpected appearance of Don Eppes. He went into the kitchen to see his older brother and father talking across the countertop. They both faced him at the sound of his footsteps.

"Don? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?" he asked after getting used to the bright light. Don scoffed.

"What? You don't want big brother taking over or something?"

"You catch on pretty quick," he answered with a grin but the grin soon slipped away when Don and Alan froze. Don leaned against the counter and stared at his little brother. Charlie swallowed.

"You guys, it was just a joke. Of course, I don't mind you coming here."

Don swiveled his head to look at his father.

"He-he told a joke. Am I not right, he just told a joke!" He smiled but the shock was apparent. Alan laughed as Charlie rolled his eyes.

"Just because I tend to get preoccupied-" Charlie started. Don pointed his finger at his chest.

"Lost, you mean."

"Whatever," Charlie answered. Alan smiled.

"Well, this is a cause for celebration, don't you think? My son, cracking a joke!" Alan threw his white dishtowel over his shoulder and reached for the oven. Still chuckling, he took out a fresh plate of blueberry muffins. Charlie's stomach did another lurch and he grabbed two muffins without stopping to consider that they might be hot. Unfortunately, his hands reminded them.

"Hot! Hot! Ouch," he hissed. He tossed the two muffins and juggled them while his sore hands recovered. Don placed a napkin on the counter and Charlie threw the muffins onto it.

"Thanks," he muttered but when he looked up he said, "Hey, what _are_ you doing here?"

Don was dressed in his usual attire with his blue collared shirt underneath his suit jacket and his dress pants and shoes. Don glanced at his watch and shrugged.

"I've got a few minutes." He scanned Charlie. "Let me guess. You were up all night solving equations."

"Dad told you," the younger man replied matter-of-factly. The FBI agent smirked and crossed his arms.

"Even if he hadn't, I would still notice. I'm not a part of the FBI for nothing."

However, Charlie did not pay attention to his brother. Instead, he was looking over his father as Alan rolled his shoulders back and forth as if to smooth out all the kinks. His eyes were a little bloodshot and there weresigns of small bags underneath his eyes. Don frowned and then followed Charlie's gaze. Alan's eyes drooped but the older son figured that it was not just fatigue that was bothering their father. Don put a hand on his father's shoulder.

"Hey, Dad. You alright?" he asked his voice laced with concern. Alan looked up and sighed.

"Yeah, I'm just tired. Listen, you boys eat up. I'm going to go upstairs. Have a good day at work, Don," he said after clapping Don on the back. Then he left the room. Don walked over to Charlie still looking at the doorway.

"Hey, what's wrong with Dad?" he asked. Charlie sighed but then bit his lip. He pinched the bridge of his nose and mentally gave his brain a swift kick. He had totally forgot and he had allowed himself to get lost in his work instead of comforting-

"Charlie! What's wrong with Dad?" Don asked again. Charlie rubbed his arms.

"What was yesterday's date?"

Don frowned.

"The fifteenth? Look Charlie, just tell me, will you? I don't have time for this," he said with a tiny trace of irritation but soon regretted it after he saw Charlie's face. Don gave him a smile to show him that everything was okay.

"It was Jamie's birthday. She's 24 now. Well, anyway Dad called and he just got the answering machine like always."

Don turned to face the window. The sun's rays reflected onto his rigid face yet the warmth did nothing to soothe his sudden burst of anger. In his mind, he saw his father excitedly punching the numbers on the phone and then hang up dejectedly after leaving a message on the machine. How many more times did he need to be disappointed? Did Jamie even _know_ what she was doing to their father? Don placed a hand on the back of a chair and gripped it tighter than necessary.

"Why does he even bother? All he's ever going to get is the machine. She's not going to call just because it's her goddamn birthday."

Charlie walked to his side and he stared out the window.

"She's his daughter. He's never going to stop."

Don straightened up and walked towards the doorway.

"I got to get to work. I'll see you later, Charlie."

_Two Days Ago_

A woman gasped as she clutched the stitch in her side. The raindrops slid down her face taking her mascara with it. Her blonde hair flew across her bloody face when the gust of wind blew against her. _So dark. Don't know where._ The young woman paused to look around. She was in an alley behind the stores and trashcans were strewn about everywhere. The streetlights were dim and barely visible from where she was standing. The slight brush of a stray cat's tail on her ankle was enough for her to let out a bloodcurdling scream. The woman gasped as she heard her echo bounce off the brick walls and the window panes. She covered her mouth.

She had just given her position away.

_Shit._

The woman slipped off her high heels and sprinted off as best as she could with sore feet. The alley grew narrower the further she ran. Her ribcage pinched her heart painfully and she had a sudden bout of dizziness. Salty tears left tracks through the dried blood and mud and made for her lips. The bitter taste made her choke but she kept going. For he was after her still.

Finally the woman came to a stop. She dropped her hands to her side as the tall barbed wire fence stared down at her. Her breathing slowed and she curled her fingers against the gaps of the fence. She leaned her body against it but her eyelids shot up in a few seconds.

_Crack. Crack. Crunch._

She recognized the sound. It was the sound of boots landing on branches and leaves. Her pursuer came closer and her shallow breath nearly stilled. _So quiet. Have to scream._ She opened her mouth but his gloved hand clasped her shoulder. The scream melted on her tongue and he put his sour mouth near her ear.

"Hello, my sweet."

_Present_

"Don!"

Don turned around to see his partner Agent Terry Lake striding towards him. The office was boiling with activity as usual and judging by the look on Terry's face Don knew something had come up while he was gone. He immediately placed his thoughts on his youngest sibling off to the side as he greeted Terry.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked briskly. Terry sighed.

"A woman was found buried by the riverbank of Rowan River. She looked-she looked really bad," she said uncertainly. Don glanced at her at the waver of her voice. His partner was a seasoned agent and could handle things that most people couldn't. If Terry said it was bad then…he swallowed uncomfortably.

"Lacerations everywhere but it's like….there was a design to it. She was holding a note from the murderer."

Don stopped walking and Terry swiveled to face him.

"What? He just left a note?"

Terry nodded.

"Yep. Addressed to the FBI. It was typed so we can't use handwriting for clues. No fingerprints either. Just from the victim."

"What did it say?"

"_The perfect crime is art._ To leave a note means that he's pretty confident with himself or it means he wants attention. He wants people to know what he's doing in order to get the satisfaction he wants. It could be both. Confidence and attention."

They walked inside the office to join Agent David Sinclair. David swirled to them while flipping through the pages on his clipboard. He licked his cracked lips and cleared his throat.

"Okay, the victim's name is Angelica Jacobson. She was 26 years old. She lived in LA for about six years. Um…she was living with another roommate named Claire Berkdale. No angry ex-boyfriends or anything."

Don nodded as he draped his jacket over the back of his chair. David handed him the clipboard and Don grimaced as he saw the pictures. Terry looked up at him.

"Oh my God," he croaked.

The body was bare but he could barely see any skin with all the mud and the blood. However, his eyes could see traces of cuts weaving and curving across her chest. He swallowed and then squinted to see more clearly.

"Are those…feathers?" he asked incredulously. His partner nodded.

"Yeah, there are exactly nine of them. Three across her chest, one on each arm, and two on each leg," Terry answered. Don brought the clipboard to his side and stared at Terry and David.

"So what does this all mean? Feathers and the note? This doesn't fit any descriptions of the other serial killers or just murderers in general," he muttered. David paced a little before he turned back to Don.

"I think he'll do it again."

Terry and Don both looked at him.

"I mean notes generally mean the guy is confident. I don't know, I just think he's going to."

Don nodded.

"Well, let's talk to Claire-" he paused to look down at the papers, "Berkdale. Hopefully, we'll get something."

The two nodded and all reached to get their jackets. They started to go out the door before one woman stopped them.

"Uh, Agent Eppes. You have some sort of an appointment with a reporter-" she started. Don waved his hand.

"That can wait."

The three walked out of the office.

* * *

Jamie sighed as she walked along the sidewalk. Her fingers tapped against the black handbag and she concentrated on her feet. One foot in front of the other. Her heels clicked and clacked on the pavement and she smiled at the sound. It felt like a calling from the depths of her memories of her mother. Her mother had always loved high heel shoes because they made her feel tall.

_"Like I could do anything in the world. Whatever I'd like."_

She chuckled as she remembered trying on the shoes when she was younger and how horrified she felt when she had broken one of the heels. It was the first lie she'd ever told to her mother and the guilt was too much for her to bear. So she told her mother the truth five minutes later. Jamie never lied to her mother again.

But she was no longer here…

Jamie shook her head and rolled her eyes. This was the reason why the young woman always needed to be moving and doing things. _Leave me alone for a few seconds and I go all sappy._ Jamie looked at her watch and scanned the landscape. She was almost at the FBI building and she supposed she could have taken the taxi. However, the later she saw her brother the better.

Tammy thought she was doing Jamie a favor when she told Fitzgerald about Don. The story would be big and important. It was also a chance for Jamie to rise to the top. It also meant that she would have to meet up with her dear older brother. She bit her lip as she crossed the street.

_Maybe he won't be there and I can come back tomorrow. Or never._

Her heels came to a stop. She bent her neck back and cupped her hand over her eyes to block the sun. In just a few minutes, the Eppes brother and sister would meet. She breathed in and out.

"Well, time to face the music."

* * *

David Sinclair was not in a happy mood this afternoon. Claire Berkdale was too upset to be much of help to their case. He hadn't eaten any lunch and it was now 5 p.m. It was not usual for him to complain but when a man hadn't had any more than 3 hours of sleep it was quite understandable. But David didn't complain. He loved his job even though it was grisly and gruesome. He got along with his partners and David genuinely cared for them.

However, today he was tired and not in a good mood.

David flipped through his papers as he walked through the aisles of the office. People talking on the phone, typewriters clicking away, machines bleeping, cell phones ringing all crowded into his head and he quickly shut his eyes in order to block everything out. Half a second later he bumped into someone and something metal hit his forehead. He groaned and rubbed his head. David opened his eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking and – should you be here? Who are you?" he asked staring at the young lady in front of him. _Medium height. Maybe 5'5". Brown hair. Black hair. Definitely oriental. Handbag-so that's what hit me. Maybe 23 or 24 years – aw hell what am I doing?_

"Um, yeah. I'm the reporter from 'Today's News' magazine. I've got an appointment with um Special Agent Don Eppes," she said eyeing him carefully. David sighed. He didn't have time for this and Don sure didn't either.

"Well, look. Do you have permission to be here? I mean-"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do," she said her voice strong and firm. David rubbed his eyes.

"What's your name?" he asked. The woman bit her lip and rubbed her shoe against the other one.

"My name?"

David rolled his eyes.

"Yes, your name."

The woman sighed.

"Jamie Eppes."

David stared and then frowned.

"Eppes?"

"Yes."

"As in E-P-P-E-S?"

Now Jamie was getting irritated.

"_Yes_."

David rubbed his chin. Was she related to Don in anyway? She sure didn't look like him at all. The ethnicity and-

"Jamie? Is that you?" a voice asked from behind. David turned to see Terry. Jamie's face brightened at the sight of the blonde haired woman.

"Terry? You work here too?" she asked. Terry nodded.

"Yeah, Jamie. What are you doing here? It's so nice to meet you! Have you talked to Don yet?" Terry asked softly. Jamie shrugged.

"Well I was just trying to talk to my _brother_ but this agent here-"

David faced Jamie quickly.

"Wait, brother?"

Jamie brushed the hair out of her eyes.

"I was adopted."

"Oh," David answered feeling quite stupid all of a sudden. Terry glared at him but her face changed in an instant as she faced Jamie. Jamie crossed her arms feeling a bit self-conscious.

"Well, let's go talk to him. I mean, we're a bit busy but I'm sure we can-"

"You guys! What are you doing standing around? We've got work to do. Let's go," said a voice harshly. David, Terry, and Jamie turned to face Don Eppes. Don stopped short when he saw the woman in the middle. Seconds passed in odd silence. Jamie opened her mouth to speak but her older brother beat her to it.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

A/N: Well, there's the chapter. Hope you liked it. Please review. Constructive criticism would be nice. Thanks for reading!


	3. When the Sun Goes Down

Disclaimer: Don't own Numb3rs!

A/N: Thanks to the reviewers! I'm glad you're enjoying the story and I hope that I can meet your expectations. Also Jamie's dislike for Don (vice versa) will be explained eventually. Here's the second chapter. Hope you enjoy!

**When the Sun Goes Down**

"Nice to see you too, Don," Jamie answered while she stared at him straight on. Don recognized those bright and angry flashes in her eyes and he knew that was all he would ever see in his little sister. Frankly, he didn't care. His affection for Jamie had dried out a year ago but it still came a surprise to him that his throat was not scratchy as it usually was when he thought of her.

Yet Jamie stood before him.

"You're not allowed to be in here," he said his voice startling cold. Jamie didn't flinch.

"Yes, I am. I mean, you did agree to an interview with 'Today's News', right?"

Don blinked. Terry and David glanced at each other.

"That was you?"

Jamie crossed her arms.

"Why else do you think I'm here?"

Don stared at her before turning away with an incredulous look on his face. He looked back at her with darkening eyes.

"Well, I thought it might be because Dad called to say Happy Birthday," he said through clenched teeth. Jamie slowly uncrossed her arms and her eyes widened.

"What? He called?" she asked softly. Don scoffed.

"Does it even matter? You'd never call back anyway…I don't have time for this."

He turned on his heels and went back inside the room. Jamie could still see him through the glass windows. Her mind reeled. _My birthday? I'm…24. Dad._ She blinked the tears away. Show no weakness. It was the only way to succeed in New York and it was the only way to succeed in life. She hitched her handbag onto her shoulder again. She ignored Terry and David's curious stares. Terry stepped towards her.

"Jamie, maybe-"

"Oh hell no, he said he would let someone interview him. Just because I happen to be his sister-"

Terry put a hand on her shoulder.

"Jamie, we've been under a lot of stress today. There's this case and well maybe today isn't a good time for this."

Jamie looked at her closely. She blushed.

"Oh wow, I should have considered that. I'm so sorry. I'm stopping you from doing your work."

Terry smiled at her and playfully punched her arm.

"Jamie, you don't have to apologize. I'm just glad to see you again and we _will_ be seeing each other again soon," Terry said warningly. Then she gave a slight wave and joined Don. David cleared his throat.

"Um sorry for hassling you like that," he said. She grinned although he realized that the grin didn't reach her chocolate eyes.

"No, it's fine. Sorry for bothering you. Um…could I ask you what the case is about?" she asked curiously. David glanced through the windows.

"Um…well. I don't think so. I don't think it's a good idea for you to get into this. I mean, Charlie is already helping Don-"

Jamie put out a hand.

"Wait. Charlie, my brother? The math genius? Don actually lets him help with this kind of stuff?"

David shrugged.

"Yeah, he's been a great help. Look, I really got to go. We have to catch this guy."

Jamie nodded quickly.

"Oh yeah, right. Sorry. It was nice meeting you um…"

David let out his hand and she took it.

"David Sinclair. Bye," he gave her one quick smile and left her alone surrounded by ringing phones and copy machines. Jamie sighed and walked out of the building with her mind reeling. The meeting had not gone quite as she had planned but it wasn't anything unexpected except for that tad bit about Charlie helping Don.

"Wow, there are such things as miracles," she mumbled. The bright light from the sun beamed onto her face. She walked out onto the sidewalk while she fumbled around her handbag in search of her sunglasses. Eventually, she got them out and put them on. Immediately, the world darkened. Just the way she liked it. All secrets safely hidden where no one could stumble upon them.

Jamie jumped when her handbag vibrated against her side. She reached for her cell phone. _Great. Fitzgerald. Just what I need._

"This is Eppes."

"Well? Did you talk to him?"

Jamie balanced the phone on her shoulder while she flagged for a taxi. The cab driver slowed down and pulled to a stop on the curb.

"Um. Yeah. I talked to him."

"And…how much did you get?" he asked eagerly. Jamie grunted as she got the door opened. She slid in and shut the door behind her.

"Um…well, not much," she answered. Jamie covered the phone with her hand and leaned forward.

"Sheraton Hotel, please," she whispered. The driver nodded.

"Yes, ma'm."

"_Eppes._ What do you mean, not much? I thought we went over this already. This story is important! Everyone wants to know what the FBI is up to right now. Especially right now. If TIME gets to it first-"

Jamie sighed.

"I know, I know, 'Today's News' is screwed."

"No. _We're_ screwed. Very very screwed. The company is having enough problems already and this is certainly not going to keep Jackson happy," Fitzgerald growled. Jamie threw her left hand up in the air.

"_I'm trying. _I'm trying! Plus, I didn't _ask_ to be on this damn story. Far as I know, you guys can all go to hell!" she yelled. The phone snapped shut. Her shoulders started to shake but stilled when she inhaled deeply. The driver looked at her from the rearview mirror.

"Hard day?" he asked kindly. She gave him a wary smile.

"You've no idea."

* * *

Charlie grinned as he watched his friend Larry explain science to a student. The student, of course, was absolutely bewildered judging by the rise of his eyebrows. Larry was obvious to the young man's confusion and continued describing in detail the intricacies of modern science. Finally, the student thanked him and hurriedly left. Charlie increased his speed to join his friend.

"So how'd it go?"

Larry sighed and crossed his arms.

"He had no idea what I was talking about, did he?" he asked. Charlie tried very hard not to smile. Hurting a friend's feelings was not on his to-do list.

"Well, maybe. Yeah I think-"

Larry glared at him and Charlie's will cracked. His lips moved into a grin.

"He had no clue but _I_ understood every word you said," he assured the professor at CalSci. Larry rolled his eyes and they walked together out of the college building onto the green campus. Charlie decided that it was sometime in the afternoon since the number of college students was waning.

"I just don't understand. They're supposed to _want_ to learn. I mean, what are they doing here? Or am I doing something wrong?" said Larry more to himself. Charlie stopped him.

"What? Larry no. You're fine. You have a passion for teaching. You want the students to learn everything they can. What can possibly be wrong with that?"

Larry gave him a weak grin and nodded. They strolled down the lane and Charlie welcomed the slight breeze that brushed over him. He felt strange today. Perhaps it was because of his father and Jamie or it was just that he hadn't eaten anything since the muffins in the morning. His stomach growled softly at the thought.

_Ring. Ring._

Charlie held out his index finger to Larry and then reached for his phone in his pocket.

"Hello?"

Pause.

"Charlie, it's me."

Charlie raised an eyebrow? Did Don need his help again? What was wrong with his voice?

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Jamie's home."

Charlie stopped in his tracks. _Jamie's home._ This could mean anything and everything. Alan could be hurt again or maybe she was staying, which he highly doubted. He didn't even have to calculate the probability. It was infinity to none. Charlie hesitated before speaking.

"Are-are you sure?"

"No, Charlie…Of course, I'm sure! She showed up at my office!"

Wrinkled burrowed within his skin making one wave after another on his forehead. Jamie visiting Don was even stranger. However, Don didn't seem too happy with the visit so at least that was normal.

"What? Why?" He heard his brother sigh.

"Wanted to interview me for some article."

Ah. That made more sense. Jamie was only here for business reasons and nothing more. The thought saddened him even though he should have been used to it by now. Charlie put his fist to his forehead.

"I got to go, Charlie."

"Yeah okay, bye." He snapped the phone shut and rubbed his eyes. This day was turning out to be very interesting all right. He hoisted up his shoulder bag so that it could rest more comfortably. Larry looked at him expectantly.

"Well? What was that about?" Larry asked. His colleague just shook his head.

"Nothing."

What was he going to do when he got home? He sure didn't want to tell his father about this in case that Alan would be disappointed again. Charlie felt a jolt of anger towards his little sister. Although he loved her, he couldn't help but wonder what was going on inside her head. Did she hurt Alan on purpose? Jamie didn't bring people down for the fun of it. Every action had a reason.

He and Jamie got on pretty well together when they were younger but he knew that Don and Jamie had a bond that Charlie had once been jealous of. He thought it would never break but it had. Severely. He smiled in remembrance. Jamie loved to read books by Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Faulkner, Twain and much more while Charlie immersed himself in Calculus 3 textbooks. Both of them were geniuses but at the different sides of the spectrum. There was also the fact that Jamie was a less of a geek than Charlie was. Maybe that was what brought Don and Jamie closer together. Before they had the 'fight'.

"Charlie?"

Charlie opened his mouth but words halted when he saw Amita walk past him. Her dark curls flew elegantly around her shoulders and she had her arms were around her books and folders. Charlie frowned. Did she not notice him? They both sped up to catch up with her.

Charlie got a glimpse of her face and he grew immediately worried. Although there were no tears, he could see red, puffy eyes and her breathing was shallow. He gently grabbed her elbow.

"Hey," he said quietly. Amita sniffed and then looked up with a smile plastered on her face.

"Hey," she whispered.

"Everything okay?" he asked softly. Amita nodded.

He never saw her like this before. Whenever he thought of Amita he thought of intelligence, beauty, exotic, and cheerfulness. Today, she was far from being cheerful.

"Yeah, I'm just tired. I-I-" she stopped to catch her breath. Charlie put his arm around her. Both didn't notice Larry quietly walking away.

"Are you sure? Amita, what's wrong?"

Amita leaned her head on his shoulder and the professor inhaled a whiff of her shampoo. _Wow._ She just breathed against him for a few seconds before she stepped away.

"I'm okay. I got to go. Bye, Charlie."

And to his utter shock, Amita leaned over and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. Before he could say anything Amita was already on her way. All Charlie could do was gape. His hand worked its way up to his cheek. The tingled from her lips was fading and when he swallowed, Charlie realized that he didn't want it to go away.

Not at all.

* * *

The apartment was quiet. Oddly quiet, Don thought. The building seemed ready to burst out of the weak frames and pillars that were barely holding it up. Don and Terry cautiously walked up the stairs. The humid air stuck to Don's face and he inwardly sighed. He hated humidity. He pulled out his wallet when they reached the right door. Terry rang the doorbell.

A man clad in only a towel answered the door.

"Are you here about Angie? Is she okay? Claire hasn't called me and-"

"Why don't we talk about this inside, Mr. Damon. I'm Special Agent Don Eppes. This is Agent Terry Lake."

It seemed that Ray Damon just realized that Terry was present. He blushed and let them inside.

"Um, let me get dressed."

Don nodded and Damon scurried away into his bedroom. Don scanned the room and it was obvious that the man was an aspiring artist. There were bottles of paint, paintbrushes, and pastel everywhere on the kitchen table. Sketch pads were in a huge pile on the countertop. He glanced at the carpet in the living room and discovered that it was stained with coffee. Three easels rested in the corner.

Terry walked closer to the easels and took in the beauty of green fields. The wave of blades of grass and the rolling of the darkening sky overwhelmed her sense. Her eyes moved on to the next easel and she became breathless. It was a charcoal drawing of Angelica Jacobson with every little detail. Each vein, each eyelash, each wrinkle were all drawn so carefully and what might have looked unattractive otherwise seemed endearing. There was no doubt about it. The artist was hopelessly in love with Angelica.

"That's the picture of Angie. I haven't finished it yet," said Damon from behind. Terry jumped slightly and Don gazed at her oddly. Terry brushed her fingers through her hair.

"It's very beautiful."

He gave her a sad smile.

"No. Angie was beautiful."

Don cleared his throat and came towards them.

"I'm sorry but Miss Jacobson-"

"She's gone, isn't she?" he said softly. The partners peeked at each other.

"Yes, how did you know?" Don asked suspiciously. Damon looked out the window. Tears streamed down his face and in the darkening room the tears reflected a feeble ray of sunlight. Terry's heart tightened.

"First of all, you said 'I'm sorry' and that almost always means someone died. And…if you love someone enough, you just know. It's like someone cut off half of your heart," he croaked.

"I'm sorry. Your girlfriend was…strangled to death. We need your help in order to figure out who did this to her," Don said quietly. The pain in the man's form was to hard for the agent to watch. Damon straightened up and his body turned stiff.

"I'll do everything you ask," Damon replied firmly and stared at him straight in the eye. Don nodded.

"Thank you."

Terry took out her small notebook and a black pen. She flipped to a blank page. Damon motioned them to sit on the couch while he took the armchair.

"How long have you known each other?" Don asked.

"Since we were five."

Terry lowered her notebook. _Wow._

"Was she acting strange recently? Or was something out of the ordinary?"

The math hesitated and the shook his head. Both agents noted the hesitation.

When was the last time you saw her?"

"Three days ago. The day she went missing."

Don nodded.

"Do you remember what you guys were talking about?" Don asked.

The man fidgeted and clasped his hands together. He closed his eyes and when he opened them Terry saw a fresh well of tears. She knew what they were all to well. Tears of guilt. She made a jot of this mentally in her head knowing that Don would think her crazy if she wrote 'boyfriend. Tears of guilt' in the notebook. The boyfriend was leaving something out and they all knew it. Don decided to use harshness as a tool.

"Look, your girlfriend was viciously murdered. If you have something that we might need, I suggest you tell us now."

Damon sighed and buried his head in his large calloused hands. He paused before speaking.

"She told me she was pregnant and that she was going to get an abortion. That was the last day I ever saw her."

Now they had something.

"Did you support her decision?" Don asked. If he hadn't there could be a motive…Damon nodded.

"We both believed we weren't ready for a baby yet. I told her that I would go along with whatever she wanted…I wanted to go with her but I had to be at an art exhibition that day. She wouldn't let me go. I-I should have gone with her." His voice cracked and he sank to the floor heaving with sobs. Terry kneeled in front of him and rubbed her palm against his back. Don felt a twinge but he quickly cast it out.

Terry soothed him without saying a word. She looked up at him.

"I'm sorry but I need to know one more thing. Do you know where she went to get the abortion?"

Damon raised his head slowly.

"Hamilton Clinic."

Minutes later the agents were back outside beside the car. Don took one last look at the building and he thought of Ray Damon. The man was in pain, a pain he had almost forgotten. Needed to be forgotten. How had he acted after his mother died? His throat clogged.

"I say we look into him," Don said suddenly. Terry turned.

"What?" she said sharply.

"You heard me."

"Don, did you see him? He _loved_ her. Why would he-"

"Or it could all be just an act."

Terry crossed her arms.

"Well, he's a damn good actor."

Don blinked. What was wrong with her? The Terry he saw was usually emotionless and logical. All FBI agents were trained to keep their emotions in check and his partner excelled at that. What was it about this case that made her this way?

"Terry, what is wrong with you?" he asked.

Terry opened the door but stopped before she got in.

"It's nothing. Let's go."

They drove back to the office in silence.

* * *

8:07 PM

Felix Gonzales took a sip of his coffee. He flipped through the channels and then glanced at the clock. His wife would be coming soon. Then his stomach dropped with a sickening thud. It had been a month already. A month since that dark and rainy night. If he hadn't put his music on so loud…If only it hadn't been raining…If the boy had been careful…If _he _had been more careful…

There were so many ifs…

If he hadn't run away…where would he be now?

_Behind bars for sure._

Gonzales yawned and his eyes slowly rolled back. Why was he so tired? Coffee was supposed to keep him…

His body slumped onto the couch and the remote control fell to the carpeted floor. A man came out from a closet quietly and if Gonzales had been alive he would see the glistening silver blade of a knife.

* * *

David stumbled into his apartment. It was getting harder and harder to stay on his feet. He trudged to his bedroom his feet shuffling across the floor. Without bothering to take off his suit he collapsed on his bed. So soft and inviting. He moaned quietly as he clutched the blanket. He stayed in that position for half an hour before he decided that sleep wasn't going to come to him easily. As always.

So he got up and went into the kitchen. He thought about the Asian woman while brewing the coffee. She had left an imprint on him somehow. Maybe it was because he bumped into her. Maybe it was because she was Don's sister. Why hadn't Don ever mention Jamie? Then he remembered the conversation between them and realized that Don might have had a reason for it.

David poured the coffee into his cup and walked out onto the balcony. He grasped the railing as he looked out into the LA skyline. The lights brightened up the black sky and the smoke from the cars was almost visible. He night air was fresh and clean despite the pollution and he could smell the green grass, which was strange considering there weren't any nearby.

"_Leave. Get the hell out of here. I don't need you."_

David closed his eyes and tried to block out the wailing screams from his memories. Finally he couldn't take it anymore and he slammed his fist on the railing.

* * *

Alan Eppes walked around the countertop with pan of pasta in his hands. Don and Charlie eagerly waited to take a bite but even so Alan knew that the boys were off in their own little worlds. He sighed. He wished his sons didn't have to live with so many secrets and see things that would horrify other humans. However, Don and Charlie knew that it was their duty to use their abilities in order to keep people safe. He set the pan on the table and waited until his sons dished the pasta onto their own plates.

"Okay. What's going on?" he asked. Immediately, the two brothers looked at each other. Seconds turned into minutes and they were still silent. Judging by their body language, Alan could tell that Charlie was ready to spill while Don was silently warning him against it. So he turned to Charlie.

"Charlie?"

"Um well," he stammered. Alan threw his hands up in the air. What was a father to do?

"Will you just tell-"

_Buzz._

Alan frowned. Was that the doorbell? Who would be visiting them during dinner? Don stood up to get it but Alan motioned for him to sit down. He went to the front door and opened. His jaw dropped when he saw who was standing there in front of him.

"Jamie?"

Jamie raised her head in order to be at eye-level. She gave him a small smile.

"Hey, Dad."

A/N: So what do you think? Please review! Constructive criticism, please. Thanks for reading!


	4. Evening Lingers

Disclaimer: Don't own Numb3rs!

A/N: squee Thanks for reviewing! Don't worry there will be Don/Terry but it might take awhile before they get their act together. Please remember that I do not know much about LA and some info may be inaccurate. The Don and Charlie's ages may be inaccurate. (Please don't kill me!) I hope you enjoy!

**Evening Lingers**

Alan stood there with his mouth opened not believing that his daughter was right there in front of his eyes. How long had it been since he last saw her? Since he last heard her voice? Jamie looked at him expectantly.

"Dad? Are you going to let me in?" she asked softly with a trace of mischievous smile. Alan came to his senses and ushered her in.

"Jamie…I'm so glad to see you," he said. He beamed at her and Jamie could feel her heart drop a little lower than it already was. Her head shot up when she heard footsteps. Charlie had come out from the kitchen.

"Dad? Who was-Jamie!"

Jamie's eyes roamed over her brother. She cocked her head to the side and crossed her arms. There was something different about her brother but it wasn't very obvious. Perhaps it was his posture and how more relaxed he looked. Maybe it was that twinkle of confidence in his dark eyes. She gave him a little smile.

"Hey," she greeted him. Charlie had braced himself for her coldness but it wasn't as bad as he had expected. He nodded and smiled.

"It's been a long time," he replied. Alan put his arm around Jamie's shoulders while she nodded slowly.

"Yeah well…"

Alan threw his hands up in the air.

"What are we standing here for? I'm hungry! You hungry, Jamie? Of course you are, come on let's eat!"

Jamie stopped.

"No, uh, Dad. I just wanted to stop by and say hi. Um, I have to get back anyway. Um…work and stuff…you know," she said backing away from the kitchen while fiddling with her long hair. Alan frowned.

"But you're here and that well that doesn't happen very often. Can't it wait? I mean, I've got pasta and it's still hot, you know. Well, it might be all gone since Don is here and well, you know how he is when he's hungry…Jamie, please?" Alan said. Jamie's eyes widened a bit at the mention of Don. Charlie silently pleaded with her but all three of them turned when they heard Don stepping into the hallway.

"Hey, what's going…on."

Charlie could swear that he saw daggers flying toward each other. Alan looked at both of them nervously. Even _he_ knew that his two children were not on best terms. Heck, Jamie and Charlie weren't even on best terms. The tension grew so thick that Alan could barely breathe. _Well, gotta fix that._ He clapped his thighs with his hands and cracked a large smile.

"Well, Don! Look who's here! She was just going to join dinner," he said excitedly. Jamie shook her head.

"No, Dad. I'll be interrupting. I just wanted to say that I heard you left me a message…I wanted to say…thanks. I mean, I completely forgot my birthday," she said with a small laugh. Alan crossed his arms.

"That's because you work too hard, young lady. I swear, you three are exactly the same. And what's this nonsense about interrupting? Is she interrupting, you two?" he asked Charlie and Don. Charlie grinned.

"Course not."

Don paused before answering.

"No. Join us, Jamie."

Both Jamie and Charlie stared at their older brother.

"Um…okay," she replied. Her father dragged her by the elbow and brought her into the kitchen leaving Don and Charlie alone. Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Don asked knowing fully well what his brother was thinking about. Charlie just clapped him on the shoulder and walked into the kitchen. Don sighed and put both of his hands on his face. Well, this evening would certainly be interesting. He went back to the kitchen.

He stopped at the doorway and put his arm up against the wall. He rubbed his face gently as he surveyed the scene. Jamie was laughing along with Alan while Charlie took out another plate. Alan joked about his younger son and Jamie chuckled.

It all fit.

Like it was supposed to be but it would never stay that way. Maybe it was partly Don's fault but it was Jamie who left her family to work at a stupid (prestigious, yes but stupid nonetheless) news magazine company in New York. He had promised himself that it wouldn't bother him but it did.

Alan cleared his throat.

"Do you plan on joining us?"

Don started.

"Uh yeah. I'm-I'm hungry."

And so they sat around the table like always except this time the missing link was back.

* * *

_"Jamie! Come on, you have to come out of your room sometime!" Don called through his sister's door. He could hear muffled sobs._

_"Leave me alone!" the seventeen year old girl shouted. Don sighed and looked at Charlie. Charlie shrugged but concern was apparent in his eyes. _

_"It's been three days! He's not worth it, Jamie," Don told her, "Listen, would you like me to beat the crap out of him?"_

_The door creaked opened. Charlie and Don stared at their sister. There was no other way to say it. She looked terrible. Jamie didn't even bother to change out of pajamas and her hair was falling out from a horribly made bun. Her eyes puffed out and the bags under them were darkening by every second. Immediately the two brothers reached out to hug her. _

_The three of them embraced each other while Jamie cried on their T-shirts. Jamie closed her eyes. It had been so long since she had seen them. They were in college or busy with their career. She brought them close and she wished they would never have to leave._

_"Dad called us," Charlie whispered. Don ruffled her hair._

_"He's an ass, Jamie. Nothing more."_

_Jamie laughed bitterly._

_"No kidding."_

_She stepped away from them and wiped her face._

_"Thanks, you guys. For coming. I – yeah."_

_"Well…it is statistically shown that siblings-" Charlie blocked his face as Jamie slapped him playfully while Don laughed. He put his arms back down._

_"-care about each other's well being," he finished. Jamie grinned and gave him a hug. Don clapped his hands._

_"How about we go bowling? Unless you'd rather go back to your room and cry to death because Charlie and I can just go by our-"_

_Jamie jumped._

_"Wait a second. Don't you dare go without me!" _

_She went inside and closed the door behind her. Don and Charlie gave each other a high-five._

* * *

Don looked up at the pearly moon. The cool air tickled his arms pleasantly and he had to admit that the symphony of the crickets fit the night well. It was hard nowadays to find peace but that was what he loved about his father's house. He jumped slightly when he saw Charlie step next to him.

"It's a half moon. It's also called a quarter moon because it completed one of the orbit around Earth _and _only one quarter of the moon's surface is visible from Earth."

Don nodded.

"I like it. The half moon, I mean," he clarified.

"What were you thinking about?" Charlie asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You've got that 'I'm thinking' look on your face," he answered. Charlie looked over his shoulder and through the sliding glass doors. Jamie was helping their father with the dishes despite his protests.

"Just about the past. Do you remember that Mike guy who broke up with Jamie?" Don asked. Charlie nodded.

"Yeah, him I didn't like. I remember both of us going back just to cheer her up," he said reminiscently.

"Yeah. We came back for her. Why didn't she ever come back for Dad?"

"I can't answer that, Don. Only Jamie can. I still can't believe that she actually stopped by," Charlie said amazed.

"Yeah, who knew?"

The silence was broken by the crickets' song and the buzzing of the fireflies.

"Hey, Don. If this um woman came up to you and let's say kiss you on the cheek…um what do you do?"

Don raised his eyebrow while Charlie blushed.

"Is this woman possibly Amita?"

He blushed even more.

"Possibly. Yes. Quite possibly."

Don smirked and faced him. Well, well, well. His brother was growing up.

"Personally, I would ask her out considering you've guys known each other for awhile. Aw man. You have a girlfriend and where am I?"

Charlie nudged him in the ribs.

"What about Terry?" he asked innocently. Don froze but then shook it off.

"Oh come on, Charlie. There's always a chance where we might be in a situation where lives are at stake. If we let our emotions to rule our actions, there's bound to be a mistake."

"So you do have feelings for her?" Charlie asked. Don's forehead wrinkled.

"I never said that."

Charlie knew that tone of his and also knew that it meant that the conversation was officially over. He nodded and went back inside juggling his thoughts about Amita. Don stared at the half moon again except an image of a blonde haired woman kept drifting into his vision. Don inwardly groaned.

This was the last thing he needed.

* * *

"How long are you planning on staying?" Alan asked his daughter. Jamie put her hair behind her shoulder before putting a plate in the dishwasher.

"Um not for very long. I just need some stuff and then I'll leave again."

Even with her back turned she could still sense her father's disappointment. She wished she didn't have to do this but after calling Fitzgerald and apologizing there was no turning back.

"Oh. Well, maybe until then you can stay with us until you have to go. I mean, this house is certainly big enough. We have an extra room," said Alan hopefully. This hopefulness reached and clenched her heart. She wasn't sure how much more she could take. Tears welled in her eyes. _I've cried more these two days than I ever have in four years._ Her back was still facing Alan and she looked through the kitchen window to see Charlie and Don talking to each other.

"Jamie?"

Jamie turned.

"Yeah sure, Dad. If it's okay with you," she said shakily.

* * *

Terry swallowed her wine slowly and let the taste melt on her tongue. Her thoughts traveled on thousands of different waves and somehow they all involved her partner, Don. She cursed herself for bringing it down to this. The relationship had been over ten years ago and she had even forgotten about him for a while. The date at the Laundromat had no doubt lingered during the exchange of wedding vows with her ex but it disappeared in a snap. Then they were to work together. Now that was something she didn't expect.

It was good to see him again and no one could ever say that they didn't work well together. The interaction between them was different now. More formal, and more focused on work. She didn't expect to fall in love with him all over again.

Terry leaned back into her couch and watched Lucille Ball stuff chocolate into her mouth.

_"It's never going to work out, Terry. You know it."_

_"But we could try."_

_"Do you really think it'll work?"_

_"No…" she whispered and rested her head on Don's chest._

He was right of course. It would have never worked out and they had broken it off mutually. Her thoughts kept rolling.

_Ring. Ring._

She brought her cell phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

Terry sat up and grit her teeth. Then she just let it go.

"What do you want?" she asked resigned to her ex.

* * *

"Okay this is your old room. So you can stay here. Your desk is still there if you need a place to work."

Jamie smiled and nodded. Alan smiled back.

"I'm glad you're staying with us," he said.

"Me too," Jamie replied honestly. Alan nodded.

"Well, do you need a ride back to the hotel to get your stuff back?" he asked. Jamie shook her head.

"No, I'll be fine. I can take a taxi."

"Nonsense. Don will take you. I don't really trust Charlie driving."

"I heard that, Dad!" said Charlie from the living room. They both glanced towards the room.

"Well, Don? Will you take her?"

Pause.

"Sure."

The drive was uncomfortable. The two siblings refused to look at each other and unless words were needed they said none. Jamie tapped her fingers on the window in order to keep the tension from getting too high. She sighed and then took a deep breath.

"So will you let me interview you? Or why don't you just let me observe you? So I can see how everything works."

Don kept driving but Jamie knew he was thinking. Thirty seconds later Don spoke up.

"Fine, but on one condition."

Jamie raised both her eyebrows.

"What's that?"

"Don't cause trouble."

Jamie let a grin escape and she leaned against the passenger seat.

"It's a done deal."

* * *

A/N: I know it's pretty short but I really needed to show how the family worked. I thought this was the best time to do it. Please review. I would really like to see what everyone thinks and any type of feedback is welcomed. Thanks for reading! 


	5. New Beginnings

Disclaimer: Don't own Numb3rs!

A/N: Sorry I haven't update in awhile. Went to Korea and back and then visiting colleges took up a lot of my time. Anyway, a big thank you to those who reviewed! I love reading each review and they make me want to write better! Hopefully this chapter will be a transition from the beginning to the middle and this story will get rolling. I hope you enjoy!

**New Beginnings**

Jamie yawned, her elbows slipping off the kitchen table. Alan and Charlie raised their eyebrows. The Jamie they knew could be up and actually _awake_ in the wee hours of the morning. Mrs. Eppes had always complained about how her daughter caused so much trouble at six in the morning. Alan grinned in remembrance. Let's see…there was the pancake fiasco when she decided to make the whole family pancakes. Jamie had also let in three stray cats inside the house one day, two rabbits on another day, and a dead mice on yet another day. Oh yes, how could he forget? Jamie had also gotten trapped in the neighbor's trashcan.

"Well, well, well. Do I see my _daughter_ tired? It's seven o'clock. It's the best hour of your day!" Alan exclaimed jokingly. Jamie moaned and rubbed her eyes.

"Yeah well my body finally told me how stupid I was. Morning is _not_ good."

Charlie chuckled and Jamie moaned again. Then she assessed Charlie's attire.

"Are you going to CalSci now?" she asked. Charlie shook his head.

"No, Don asked me to come and help him with the case," he answered.

"Could I-I mean if you don' t mind-could you give me a ride there? Don said I could observe and everything and I would like to know how the _hell_ you guys work together-"

Alan cleared his throat warningly.

"Language, Jamie," he said.

"Sorry," she replied meekly, "but it's just before I left for New York…"

Charlie nodded.

"Yeah I know. Sure you can come with me. What are you going to write about?" he asked curious. Jamie shrugged.

"Just things. People want to know what's going on especially with the Twin Towers and everything. They're getting scared and they don't feel the FBI is doing an adequate job," she answered. Charlie's mouth opened.

"What? Don is doing a phenomenal job, okay? He doesn't have anything to do with September 11, Jamie," retorted Charlie. He could feel his usual mellow temper rising. Alan looked at Jamie sharply.

"You're not going to get Don in trouble now, are you?" he asked.

Jamie shrugged again.

"That really depends on Don, Dad."

* * *

Don groaned mentally as David slapped down a photo on his desk. It was a man this time with a Hispanic background. His face was bruised severely to the point where Don had to search for the nose. However, it was the body that caught his attention.

"Eight feathers," David said, "Felix Gonzales. Forty-six years old. High school literature teacher. Found buried in the backyard. Cause of death-poisoned by chloral hydrate."

Terry and Don looked at each other.

"Chloral hydrate?" Don asked. Terry opened her mouth to answer but David got to it first.

"It's to help with insomnia but too much of it…it can cause death," David explained. Don nodded.

"Okay, but it doesn't make sense. The first person was strangled. This guy was poisoned. What's the connection? What's the pattern?" Don said mostly to himself. Terry grinned.

"That sounds like something Charlie can help us with," she said. Don sat up in his chair.

"Yeah, I know. He's coming this morning. Oh and Jamie is too. You guys both saw her the other day. She's going to observe. I told her not to cause any trouble but I don't know what's going to happen," he said sighing.

"Give her a chance," said Terry softly.

"Yeah whatever."

"Whatever?" Charlie asked from the doorway. Don swiveled his chair and got up. His smile faltered a little when he saw Jamie but he managed to keep it on. Charlie came in with no awkwardness but Jamie lingered by the door looking around. David and Terry both gave her a smile and she gave them a slight wave.

"It's nothing. Look Charlie we need your help. A woman was found by a riverbank and she was strangled to death. The killer also carved nine feathers on her body," Don explained. Charlie's smile was wiped away.

"Carved? How could anyone be so heartless?" he muttered.

"There was a note in her hand too. _The perfect crime is art._ Now, a man was found poisoned with chloral hydrate and there were eight feathers carved on his body," added Terry.

"We need you to find what they have in common. We tried but we couldn't find anything. The woman was in interior design. The man was a high school teacher. They both lived in LA but they have nothing in common," David said. Charlie rubbed his chin.

"Chloral hydrate is for insomnia. The woman got strangled… Well, I could use the same equation for the last serial killer. I could find the points of origin…" Charlie got lost in thought. Everyone but Jamie was waiting for his answer.

Jamie frowned and wrinkles appeared on her forehead. Feathers. Perfect crime. Art. Why did it all seem so familiar? Her head shot up.

"Wait!" Jamie blurted out. Everyone looked at her.

"What?" Don asked irritably.

"Did you say the woman had nine feathers and the man eight?" she asked. Terry nodded. Jamie paced around the room while everyone stared at her.

"Perfect crime is art," she muttered. But could it really be so easy?

"Jamie?" Charlie asked.

"Have you guys read any of Agatha Christie's books?" she asked the agents and Charlie.

Everyone looked around at each other at the odd question. Terry nodded in confusion. Then Terry's eyes widened.

"You mean-oh my God."

Jamie nodded.

The men felt ignorant while the two women seemed excited. The silence lingered until Don couldn't stand it anymore.

"Care to explain?"

"Okay look. Agatha Christie wrote mystery books, right? Well one of her famous one is called Ten Little Indians, which was originally called And Then There Were None. This book had ten people on Indian Island. One by one they all died. The murderer was one of the ten. Also, each time a person died a cup out of ten was taken away. The murderer used the nursery rhyme _Ten Little Indians_ as a basis for the murders. He wanted the perfect crime that no one could solve. He considered it as a type of art. The first person choked to death. The second was poisoned. Mrs. Rogers-she 'overslept' to death."

Jamie glanced around at everyone waiting for anyone to call her crazy. Don stood up and paced around the room as Jamie had before. She waited not realizing that she was holding her breath. Don stopped and pivoted to Jamie.

"So you're saying that this guy is using this book as a…foundation for the murders. Like he's using it as an outline?" he asked.

"Exactly, but I don't know. I mean, you're the agent. You shouldn't trust me on this. I'm no-" Jamie started nervously. Terry interrupted.

"No, you're right. Feathers are usually associated with Native Americans. This is the only thing that makes sense. The justice-that's the murderer in the book, guys- wanted the perfect crime where no one would ever figure it out. So we could have the same kind of person on our hands."

David rubbed his chin and looked at Jamie straight in the eye.

"What did all the victims have in common? I mean, there has to be some kind of pattern," he said. Charlie nodded.

"That's right. What's the connection?" he asked. Jamie reached into her memory.

"I don't remember. It's been so long since…I've got it!"

Immediately all three adults' eyes were on Jamie. She breathed in.

"They all killed someone whether by accident or on purpose. But they weren't like blatant murders. One was a doctor and he was drunk while doing surgery. The patient died. We would call that malpractice. One old lady turned her housekeeper out of the house. The girl froze to death. Subtle things. Not like shooting with guns or stabbing or anything like that," she explained. Don's eyes became brighter.

"Angelica Jacobson. She had an abortion. In a different point of view…the murderer's point of view, wouldn't that count as murder?"

Jamie nodded.

"Exactly."

Don turned to Terry.

"We have to go to Hamilton Clinic. David-you're going to talk with Gonzales' wife, right?"

"Yeah, in like an hour and a half."

"Okay then you do that. Charlie, I need you to use that equation again. David has all the info. Jamie-" Don stopped and then started again after a few seconds, "Could you get all the information you think we might need from the book? You'd be doing me a big favor and I'd appreciate it."

Jamie nodded.

"Sure."

"Um, thanks," he said, "Terry, let's go."

"Right, bye guys."

Don and Terry left the office. Charlie grabbed his jacket and told David and Jamie that he needed to get home in order to work on the equation. They both heard him muttering things like "tweak" and "fix" while walking out the door.

And then…there were two.

* * *

Jamie printed out pages of the e-book of And Then There Were None and ruffled through them with an opened pink highlighter in her mouth. She grabbed it and underlined a few phrases. David looked over shoulder in amazement as she worked. He realized that she and Charlie were alike in this aspect. They were very passionate on the subject they loved. While Charlie loved to talk about the theory of relativity, Jamie loved to go on and on about Tolstoy. Somehow David got her to get back on the topic of Agatha Christie.

"Okay, so it looks like the killer is going in order with _how _the people were killed. Choking, sort of. Chloral hydrate. The next person will be hit in the head. The killer will probably carve seven feathers," she said quietly. David nodded. Jamie reached to get the remaining pages from the printer but had a trouble time getting them. David tried to help her and as a result their hands brushed against each other. Jamie immediately pulled her hand back.

"Sorry," she said.

"No, it's fine. Here," he replied handing the next ten pages to her. Jamie received them with a smile.

"Do you live in LA?" David asked suddenly. Jamie looked up.

"Um no, not anymore. I moved to New York two years ago. I got a job at a news magazine company and they sent me over here to write an article about the FBI," she explained. David nodded.

"You and Don must have a large age difference," he said. Jamie laughed.

"What? Do I look that young? Or does Don look that old? I like either answer."

David laughed along.

"I guess it's both."

"I'm twenty-four. Don is thirty-four. A ten year difference. It doesn't really matter. And you?" she said expectantly. David chuckled.

"Me what?"

Jamie rolled her eyes.

"Oh come on, you cleverly get a woman to tell you her age. Now it's your turn. How old are you?" she asked impishly. David smiled.

"Thirty. I'm younger than Don."

"Mmmmm," she said while nodding slowly. A glazed shine came over her dark eyes. David raised an eyebrow.

"Now what's that supposed to mean?" he asked playfully. Jamie shook her head and looked back down at the papers.

"Nothing at all," she answered not looking at him. David scoffed.

"You think I'm lying, don't you?" he said. Jamie shrugged while the agent crossed his arms.

"A FBI agent never lies."

That was when Jamie burst out laughing which sounded almost bitter. David became more and more curious as the laughter turned louder.

"What?" he asked. When Jamie calmed down she replied seriously.

"That's what Don said. Look at us now."

* * *

Amita waved goodbye to Alan as he left the house. Charlie had called her and asked her to visit him in order to work on this new case. However, she had arrived before he had but luckily, his father hadn't left for work yet and was able to let her in. She turned in a full circle in the living room. Then she walked into the kitchen in order to get a better view of the outdoors.

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

Amita groaned when she saw the caller I.D. on her cell phone. Talking to her parents in India was the last thing she wanted to do right then. Hesitantly she flipped the phone open and greeted her parent in her native tongue.

"Hello?" she said with a hint of frustration.

"Have you forgotten about your own mother? Why don't I ever get a call these days? What if you died in an accident with those things the Americans drive? We need to discuss the wedding!" her mother exclaimed. Amita rolled her eyes and tugged on one of her curls gently.

"What wedding? Mother, I'm not getting married to him. I'm sorry. Please can we stop?" she begged.

"Are you talking back to me, young lady? Is this what you learn in America? Disrespect for your elders? You will not disobey your father or me. You are coming back home! You are getting married into a nice, respectful family. I will not let you bring disgrace to our family!"

Amita placed a hand on the countertop in order to keep her balance. God this was killing her. She took a deep breath and tried again.

"I'm not trying to disgrace the family. I just want to stay here and learn more and I do not feel anything towards him. I don't love him," she said quietly.

"Love? You will let love stand in the way of honor?" her mother said beyond belief. Amita rubbed her temples. Her headache was getting bigger and bigger the longer she stayed on the phone. How could she get through to her father if she couldn't get through to her mother?

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, Mother," she replied firmly knowing that she could be giving her mother a heart attack at the moment.

"You will _not_ ignore me. You will do as I say!"

Amita's temper snapped.

"Mother, I will not marry that man. I am in love with someone else! Leave me alone! I will marry only for love!"

There was a long pause at the other line until everything burst.

"I knew it! I knew it! You fell in love with a damn American! Our family is in ruins! Honor-"

Amita hung up and threw her cell phone against the glass doors. She ducked when the shards of glass flew and then slumped to the floor.

Charlie burst into the kitchen. He had opened the front door when he heard the shattering. He skidded to a stop and surveyed the scene. Quickly, his hands were on each of her arms as he led her away from the broken glass. Charlie looked at Amita for any cuts but she seemed to be fine. Physically.

"Amita? Amita? Look at me," he whispered. Slowly, Amita looked up with her chin trembling.

"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. I broke your door and-oh Charlie I'm so sorry," she cried as she looked away. She almost let out a gasp when she felt cool fingers under her chin turning her face back at him.

"It's okay. The doors needed to be changed anyway," he assured her softly. Amita let out a choked laugh.

"Charlie, you put those in two months ago," she whispered. Charlie inwardly groaned but then smiled.

"It was bound to be broken. Frankly, I'm more worried about your phone," he said pointing to the ground. The phone was cracked, scratched, and one could see bits of wiring. Amita closed her eyes.

"It would be a good riddance."

There was a long silence as Amita put her arms around herself. Charlie's throat throbbed as he watched her eyes and the tears gathered at the ends of her long eyelashes. He had this odd desire to kiss them away. Inwardly he shook his head at the thought. What would Amita think if he did that?

"Amita? What's wrong?" he asked softly. Amita stared into his eyes.

"My parents want me to get married to that guy in India. You know, the guy I told you about?"

Charlie nodded.

"The total ass."

Amita laughed.

"Yeah him. They want me to go back to India and get married. His family doesn't want to wait any longer. Charlie, what do I do? I don't love him," she whispered.

Charlie's heart was screaming. _Who do you love?_ This feeling felt so new to him so unlike numbers. He could deal with numbers, equations, data, and charts and he knew exactly what to do when it came to that. But with Amita…all that fell away. He felt stripped bare. Suddenly his hand reached up to touch her face and she felt a ghost of a touch tracing her cheekbone. She closed her eyes and leaned against him.

"Charlie," she whispered. Charlie looked down at her. He wanted her so badly.

"What is it?" his voice nearly inaudible.

"I fell in love with someone else."

Charlie trembled at the thought of Amita in love with another man and his mind closed in on him. He had to ask. He had to know. He was Charlie Eppes and he lived on questions and knowledge.

"Who?" he asked gently. Seconds passed torturously and his heart beat in time with the clock. He stared at her expecting her answer but she remained silent. Charlie realized that she wouldn't answer and let out his breath. He couldn't take much more of this and he started to move away.

Amita grabbed him so that noses were only centimeters away. So that their lips were only centimeters away. Charlie's mind went blank as he pressed his mouth against hers gently.

A/N: I know it's sort of abrupt ending of a chapter but oh well. Please leave a review cuz I'd really love to know what you thought about it. Oh and I forgot….I don't own any of Agatha Christie's work either.


	6. When Everything Happens

Disclaimer: Don't own Numb3rs and Agatha Christie's _And Then There Were None_.

A/N: Wow, it's been awhile. I'm so sorry it took so long to update but senior year of high school has been quite hectic. I also just watched the second episode of the new season. I want Terry back! So here's the fifth chapter of Coming Back Home. Hope it's worth the wait. Please remember to review! I would appreciate it!

**When Everything Happens…**

Terry jumped into the SUV and fastened her seatbelt quickly. She braced her back against the seat and looked sideways as Don got into the driver's seat. He turned the key and the car started with its low rumble. Terry rested her head against the window and almost sighed in relief when she felt the cool glass. Don frowned.

"You okay?" he asked. Terry lifted her head up and smiled.

"Yeah, let's go."

Don put the gear in drive and they pulled out of the parking lot. Don shook his head. He had never imagined that the morning would start out like this. In fact, the past day seemed so surreal. First, Charlie ended up helping Don with his mathematical genius and now…. Jamie…Don never knew that literature could have a place in the criminal world. He had been glad of that. When Jamie was in her teens she had talked about wanting to be part of the FBI and that scared Don. He knew that Jamie was more than capable to become an agent but he did not want her out on the field…in danger. Luckily, she had chosen journalism.

"She's trying, Don," Terry said. Don sighed. Was she?

"Yeah. Right. Just coming here for an interview. That'll patch things up," he scoffed. Terry shook her head.

"I don't get it. You two were so close. What exactly happened? I mean, most siblings don't get into huge fights. You and Charlie. You guys work so well together."

"I don't know, Terry. You're the psychologist," he sighed irritably. He immediately regretted it when he saw a flash of hurt on her face.

"I'm sorry. I just don't want to talk about this right now. I'm worried about this case." _A case that Jamie's helping out with._

"Yeah, I know. Sorry for nagging you," she apologized.

"You weren't nagging," he paused before he added, "You look really tired. You sure you're okay."

Terry smiled.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just confused. My-my ex called last night."

Don turned to face her after coming to a stop at a red light. His face was passive.

"Yeah? Why?"

Terry sighed and put a hand to her head.

"He wants to get back together."

Don stared out the windshield and nearly jumped when a horn honked from behind. He stepped on the accelerator and didn't speak for a few seconds. He couldn't trust himself with his voice. Why did this shock him so much? Worry him so much? After awhile he opened his mouth.

"Wow. That's pretty-that's kinda out of the blue," he said apathetically. His voice did not sound like anything he was feeling. Terry shrugged.

"Not really. He's been talking about this for a while."

Terry had no idea why she was saying all this to her partner. It was as if a dam cracked and she was allowing little bits of info through. Was she trying to make him jealous? If she was, it certainly wasn't working judging by the look on his face. His face was void of anything and it frustrated Terry to no end. No, she wasn't trying to make him jealous. Terry Lake didn't stoop that low.

"So…do you want to go back to him?" Don asked.

Terry chuckled as she leaned back. That was the mighty question, wasn't it? James had always been her type but after what their marriage went through she wanted to stay back. At least until her feelings for Don settled. But to keep him on his toes (not that it would), she answered

"Maybe. I don't know."

There was a long pause in the conversation. Terry cleared her throat. They had wandered on this topic for too long.

"And your dad? How's he doing in the dating business?" she asked mischievously. Don laughed.

"He's still recovering from the date with the astrophysicist. She ended up talking with Charlie for the rest of the night."

Terry smiled widely and kept herself from giggling. Poor Mr. Eppes. It wasn't fair that he was having a miserable time with this.

"Truthfully, I think he's having fun just meeting different kinds of people. First the duck lady and now the older female version of Charlie. Or Larry. Take your pick."

Terry pondered on a thought. Don sighed.

"Go ahead. Ask me."

Terry jumped.

"What are you talking about?" she asked innocently. Don raised an eyebrow. _I love it when he does that._

"Terry, we've known each other for ten years now. We've _dated_ each other. Now we're partners. Do you really think that I don't know that 'I'm dying to ask a question' look?" he asked.

Terry grinned. So he had paid attention in those years that they'd known each other.

"Fine, but it's about Jamie. Just as a warning."

"Go ahead."

"How are your Dad and Charlie taking her coming back?"

Don thought for a second after checking the rear view mirror.

"Dad's ecstatic to say the very least. Charlie's-I don't know. He took the news better than I did. It's so weird, Terry. She moved in with us at least until she finishes the story."

"Do you mind it very much?" Terry asked softly. Don turned to look at her. Terry sighed.

"Sorry." She went back to her window. Minutes passed before Don spoke up.

"I don't mind. It's just so weird to have a sister again. I still fight with her but I sort of like her here."

Terry slowly faced him and Don shot her a warning glare. She broke out into laughter.

"Don't worry. I won't tell her. Jeez, you Eppes…" she trailed away with a grin lingering on her lips. Don stared at her then turned his attention back to the front.

_You're on a case. You're on a case. Terry's just your partner. _

"Don?"

"We're here."

* * *

They walked through the sliding doors of Hamilton Clinic and were greeted with light pink walls, leather sofas, and waiting patients. The clinic did not have the usual hospital smell and instead Don smelled a peach fragrance. He and Terry strode up to the counter where a nurse was typing and talking on the phone at the same time. She signaled them to wait and Don mentally ran her over. _In her 40s, Caucasian, red hair, blue eyes, maybe 140-150 lbs…_

The lady turned off the phone and smiled.

"Hello, how may I help you?" she asked curiously. Her gaze lingered on Terry and her stomach. Terry refused to blush as they both took out their wallets.

"We're from the FBI. I'm Special Agent Don Eppes and this Agent Terry Lake. We need to ask about a patient who underwent abortion," he explained briskly. The woman's eyes widened.

"But all information is confidential," she said. Terry shook her head.

"Ma'am, this patient was murdered and we need to find out how this happen. You might be able to help us."

The woman stood up and Don was able to read the nametag. Nurse Philips.

"Let me get Dr. Hobson. She'll help you. Here wait, Tina would you get Dr. Hobson, please?" Nurse Philips asked a young lady. Don couldn't help but breathe in a little when he saw Nurse O'Reilly. She seemed to be in her late 20s. He admired her strawberry blonde hair and green eyes for a second before snapping back to business. Terry smirked at him slightly but he chose to ignore it.

"Um, sure. Would you wait a minute, please?" She slipped out of the maze of counters and walked into a darkened hallway. Minutes later, both the doctor and the nurse returned. The doctor seemed confused.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Hobson. I don't understand. How can I help you?"

Don grew wary of the other patients and suggested they move this into a private office. The doctor agreed and ordered the nurses to stay at the counters. When they settled into relatively comfortable chairs Don took in the scenery. The walls were completely white and there were windows that looked out onto the streets. The doctor walked to her desk and Don noticed the enormous amount of books on the bookshelves behind her.

"Angelica Jacobson was murdered two days ago and we found that she had an abortion the day she died. We need to ask you some questions on that," Don explained. The doctor nodded.

"How did the abortion go?" Terry asked. The doctor frowned.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. It went successfully."

"Do you remember what time she came in?" Don asked taking out his notebook from his breast pocket.

"Um, I think five or six o'clock. Tina will give you a more accurate answer. I don't see how we can help you with this," Dr. Hobson said almost nervously.

"We just need more information about her day went," Terry reassured her. The doctor nodded.

"Did she seem nervous? Or did something strike you as strange about her?" he asked. The doctor shook her head.

"No, not really. I mean, most women are nervous when they're about to get an abortion. There really wasn't anything that I remember as being strange. She and Tina talked for a little while and I think that took some of the nervousness away."

Don inwardly sighed. There was nothing so far. He turned to look at his partner and was surprised to see that she was scribbling away with an intense look. She was onto something and he was dying to know what it was.

"I see. Do you know what they were talking about?" Terry asked. Don frowned. Where was she going with this?

"I'm not sure. I was talking to another patient. You can't be thinking that Tina had something to do with this. Tina's a very sweet girl and she's been helping the more overwhelmed patients around here," she answered defensively.

"I'm not accusing Nurse O'Reilly of anything, Doctor," Terry replied calmly. "How long has she been working here?"

"Three months."

Terry wrote it down and then glanced at Don as if telling him that she was done. Don rose to his feet.

"Thank you. I think we're done for now. We appreciate this."

The doctor nodded and showed them to the door. They walked out of the hallway and they were back in the waiting room. Nurse O' Reilly was filling out forms while Nurse Philips was back on the phone. Terry went over to the counter and smiled.

"Thank you," she said quietly. Nurse Philips waved slightly still talking. Nurse O' Reilly smiled.

"Did you get the information you needed?"

Terry nodded as she gazed around the counter. Her heart almost stopped when she spied something nearly hidden underneath some paper. She gave the nurse a smile.

"Do you like Sherlock Holmes?" she asked. O'Reilly broke into a wide smile and reached over to get it.

"Yes. I'm reading _The Hounds of Baskervilles_. Did you read it?" she asked a little excitedly.

"Yes, I did. But I don't have time to read much nowadays. I loved the Sherlock Holmes books," she answered ignoring Don's impatient stares.

"I'm reading for this Book Club I'm in. It's called-" the nurse stopped. Terry leaned in.

"Yes?"

The nurse laughed.

"We're still coming up for a name. We just started and well, we just haven't come up with one."

"What type of books do you read in the club?" Terry asked. Now Don was a little more interested in the conversation as if he knew where she was going with it.

"Just things here and there. Fiction mostly. You know, mysteries and um…science fiction. That kind of stuff. Well, if that's all…" the nurse said. Terry stepped away from the counter.

"Oh yes, I'm sorry…Tina, is it? We better go. Thanks for all your help," she said. The nurse nodded and the agents walked out the sliding doors.

* * *

David felt the rush of cool air as he walked into the office rustling through a pile of paper. He had gotten strange information from Gonzales's wife and he tried to outline them in his head. David made sure to tune out the typing, the talking and the…tapping? He turned around at the tap on the shoulder to find an agent looking nervous.

"Um…is that woman supposed to be in here? We asked her to leave but she said she was Eppes' sister."

David stared at the usually bold agent curiously.

"Yeah, it's okay for her to be here. What's she doing?"

"Attacking people with her pink highlighter," the agent muttered under his breath. David wrinkled his eyebrows.

"Excuse me?" he asked amused.

"Nothing. Nothing. She's just where you left her I think." Then he walked away. Shaking his head, David walked inside the room where Jamie had been and stopped at the doorway. Jamie was paging through paper and she had two pencils stuck behind her ear. Her fingers were flipping the pink highlighter expertly. David smiled. Working so hard was definitely an Eppes thing.

"Please tell me you had at least one break," he said startling her. Jamie looked up with a smile as she stretched out her arms.

"Um, not really," she admitted. "How did the interview go?"

David sighed.

"Not sure yet. I got interesting things but I have no idea what to make of it. Maybe you should go home and get some rest," he suggested. Jamie shook her head.

"No thanks. I'm getting first hand experience on how everything works. Don probably won't have any time for an interview until later. So this should help me out a bit."

David settled his briefcase on the table.

"God knows, you've helped us quite a bit."

Jamie shook her head.

"Not really."

David gaped at her.

"Are you kidding me? With that Agatha Christie thing? That was quite impressive. It was like watching another Charlie but not," he said sort of sheepishly at the end. Jamie smiled. She then gestured to the other agents outside the room with her shoulder.

"I think I kind of scared them," she admitted. David ran his hand over his chin.

"Yeah, I was thinking about that. What did you do?"

Jamie snorted and crossed her arms.

"Pretty much, just waved my marker around acting like a possessed demon."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"No, but it was close enough."

He laughed. He sat on the other chair and sighed at the comfort the soft padding gave him. It was so nice to have some peace at times like this. Having Jamie Eppes to talk to wasn't half bad either. The Eppes made an interesting family, he decided. He could only imagine how life was for Mr. Eppes when all three of his children were together.

"So what do you do when you're not chasing criminals?" she inquired. David shrugged.

"Different things," he said. Jamie waved her hand telling to go on. He sighed.

"Playing the guitar. Cooking. Basketball."

Jamie smiled wickedly and leaned back into her chair. She tossed the papers onto the table and pulled her feet towards her chest.

"And what do you cook best?" she asked. David leaned in as if he was going to whisper in her ear.

"Chicken pasta," he said loudly. Jamie jumped in her seat and scowled as she rubbed her ear.

"Pasta, huh? And your favorite basketball team?"

David crossed his arms almost defensively.

"The Bulls."

Jamie snorted.

"Are you kidding me? The Bulls? But they suck!" she exclaimed. David sighed.

"They'll redeem themselves. The Bulls sucked before Jordan was put on the team," he debated. Jamie rolled her eyes. "And you? Your favorite team?"

"The Lakers," she replied proudly. David shook his head pretending to be exasperated.

"Figures. So what have you been up to in here?" he asked glancing at the stack of papers. Jamie shrugged.

"Just going through important details that might help you guys. But…"

"But what?"

"I need to know who you're dealing with. I mean, is the guy a lit professor at Harvard or something or is he or she just a regular person who's just obsessed with Agatha Christie. Does he look into symbols and motifs or is he just going with the plot line?" Jamie paused, "Sorry, didn't mean to sound like a geek."

David laughed.

"I think you're far from a geek. I didn't know Agatha Christie used a lot of symbols and stuff."

"She didn't but there's still a couple out there…This is all so strange. I never expected to be here so soon. You won't be able to believe how _weird_ this week was to me."

"Well, supposedly you haven't been in LA for a long time and you just showed up out of the blue. But that's all I know. Don never told me he had a sister," he said. Jamie chuckled lightly.

"He wouldn't. I'm only here because my boss found out that Don is a FBI agent. I was supposed to be writing a beat story but he put me on this."

David swiveled his chair.

"Well, I'm glad he did or else we still might have been clueless about the whole case. Why did you decide to become a journalist?" he asked curiously. Jamie laughed.

"Oh…that's a long story. At first I wanted to be an agent just like Don but Dad and Don disapproved of it. Charlie probably did too but he was too busy with his math. Anyway, we fought for a long time until I pretty much told myself to forget it. I kept changing what I wanted to be. I had wanted to be an agent for so long it was weird to think about being anything else, you know? Somehow, I ended up being a journalist. Turns out journalism makes for an interesting and hectic life."

David uncrossed his arms.

"Wow…You wanted to be an agent. Man."

Jamie frowned playfully.

"What?"

"Just trying to imagine both of you guys working together on a case. With Charlie, the Eppes family would be invincible."

"I doubt that," Jamie grinned.

"So what do you do when you're not being a reporter?" David asked. Jamie thought for awhile.

"Read. Kendo. Writing. Playing tennis. Not cooking. I hate cooking," she answered. David coughed.

"Really? Well, that's no good. How do you eat?"

"Take out. Chinese. Burger King," she replied feeling sheepish. It didn't help that David was gaping at her.

"How can you live?"

"I survive," she said nonchalantly. "But that chicken pasta sounds good." She froze the second those words flew out of her mouth. Did she just--? _Oh God. _David smiled.

"Maybe you can come over some time and I'll whip it up for you."

There was an awkward pause.

"That would be great. Thanks…actually, why didn't I think of this before? Could I interview you for the article? I need more than one source and I don't think Don's willing to talk to me for at least for a little while. I would really appreciate it and I know you're business but it would be great to have different sides to how things work and-"

"Relax. Sure I'd be happy to help you. When do you want to talk to me?" he asked. Jamie beamed and David couldn't help but beam back.

"Thank you so much. Anytime. Any place. I'll work around your schedule."

"How 'bout tomorrow at seven. There's a café around the corner or tell you what. Why don't you come to my apartment and I'll make you chicken pasta."

Jamie gulped. Was it just her or was this starting to sound a lot like a…date? Not that she minded. David Sinclair…well, he was different and different made her smile.

"Yeah that'd be cool."

"Okay, I'll give you the directions before you leave. Terry and Don should be coming soon."

As if on cue the said agents walked in a little breathless. David and Jamie both stood up.

"So did you get anything?" David asked.

"Terry seems to think so but she won't tell me anything!" sputtered Don. Terry shrugged as David shot her a questioning look.

"I'm not sure if it's anything until I tell Jamie."

Everyone stared at Jamie. Her eyes widened.

"What? What did I do?"

Terry gently held onto her arm.

"Never mind them. If a person reads Sherlock Homes is she likely to read Agatha Christie's books?"

Jamie nodded.

"Usually, I mean they're from different eras but yeah Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christies are the two famous mystery writers in America. Why? Who reads Sherlock Holmes?" she asked. Terry and Don glanced at each other.

"Tina O' Reilly. She's a nurse at the Hamilton Clinic and she supposedly talked to Jacobson right before the abortion. The doctor said that it was to keep her from feeling too nervous. O'Reilly is also new to the clinic. She's also in a book club for mystery novels," Terry answered.

"And science fiction," Don added. Terry looked at him thoughtfully.

"No…she added that a couple seconds after. She was searching for another genre. The book club probably only reads mysteries."

"What did you get on Gonzales?" Don asked. David flipped through his notebook.

"He started to act a little strange a year ago and he started to drink in excess since then. Sometimes he would have nightmares and he could never sleep. So far that's the only thing out of the ordinary."

Charlie came in with his briefcase and bunch of papers on the crook of is elbow. The agents and Jamie greeted him but he only nodded in return. He got right down to business.

"I need all the information you have on the victims and any suspects. Age, residence, jobs, hobbies, anything. "

"Okay, we can get that info for you. Jamie-do you have anything for us?" Don asked awkwardly. Jamie walked towards the table and picked up a stack of papers. She handed it to her brother.

"This is the whole book and I pretty much marked everything that might be important. I color coded them with the highlighters so that it's easier to figure out."

Don nodded.

"Thanks. Um, you must be tired. Shouldn't you go home?" he asked.

"Yeah, um I'll go now."

Charlie put his hand on her arm.

"I'll give you a ride. Oh yeah, Dad invites everyone for dinner," he said nodding to Terry and David. Don frowned.

"We're on a case."

"That's what I told him but he insisted."

Don looked around at his team and then stared down at all the paperwork.

"We'll bring some of the work home. Let's go." Don took some paper and notebooks into his arms and walked out the door. David and Terry cracked into wide smiles and eagerly followed him. Charlie and Jamie shrugged and walked out.

* * *

Terry stretched her arms way above her head and let out a small yawn. She had been hunched over the balcony staring out at the few visible stars. The Eppes' balcony was the best for the small amount of stargazing she did. The cool breeze prickled against her already cold skin but she ignored it. It was too nice out in the night to be worrying about the cold. The dinner had been great and everyone laughed so much at the table even with the tension between Jamie and Don, which was fading away slightly.

She heard shuffling from behind but she didn't have to turn to know who it was. She smiled when Don rested his elbows against the railing next to her.

"Every time you're over, you're here," he said with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"I love your balcony, you know that."

She shivered as another breeze hit her. Don frowned and gently touched her arms.

"You're freezing. Let me get you a jacket." He turned but Terry grabbed him by the elbow.

"It's all right."

Terry felt her stomach quiver when she looked up into his dark eyes. There was always something there whether it be warmth, amusement, irritation, or just white-hot anger. However at that moment she couldn't see anything she recognized but it scared her logical mind. She turned back to the moonlight with her back behind Don. She almost jumped when she felt Don's warm hands on both her arms.

His hands moved up and down in slow motions and she bit her lip. She would not melt. She would not melt. She would not melt.

"Loosen up, will you?" he whispered in her ear. _Oh my God._ She let in a shaky breath and she closed her eyes. Then slowly, very slowly, Terry let herself lean in backwards and Don moved forward so that she was resting against his chest.

Terry felt heat stream from her skin to the rest of her body. Then both she and Don drank in the moon's rays in silence.

However, Don's phone interrupted them and they both jumped away from each other. Don cleared his throat and reached into his pocket.

"Eppes. Yeah…what? All right…okay we'll be right there. Bye."

He pressed OFF and faced Terry. He almost smiled when he saw Terry back into FBI mode. Her back straight, her eyes empty, her voice strong.

"Looks like we have a suspect."

Terry's eyes told Don to go on.

"You were on the right track. Nurse O'Reilly."

* * *

Jamie ran her fingers over the gold plated picture frame that had been placed above the fireplace. The picture had been taken when she was six. She had her hair in pigtails and was bending over a flower. A smile played across her lips.

"Is that you?" David asked softly from behind. Jamie gasped and turned around.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he apologized. Her father, Charlie, Amita, and Larry were in the kitchen chatting away. Don and Terry were out on the balcony to Jamie's knowledge. Jamie smiled.

"It's okay. Yeah, it's me. I forgot about this picture."

"Funny. I never even noticed it the couple of times I've been here. I would have definitely said something."

"Hmm. I remember this day," she said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. This was taken on Mom's birthday. Dad gave her the flowers. Charlie, Don and me tried to make breakfast."

David grinned mischievously.

"Tried?"

"Hey, I told you. I'm not good at the cooking thing," Jamie laughed but then she grew silent.

"Do you miss her?" he asked. Jamie placed the picture back on top of the fireplace and twisted around to look at David. She expected sympathy but that wasn't what she saw on his face. There was understanding traced with concern.

"Yeah I do but I try not to think about it too much," she whispered and turned away from him.

"Okay," he said simply. _Okay. _Jamie watched him move over to the sofa. _So simple._ David plopped down and picked up the remote.

"You don't mind, do you? The Bulls game is on tonight on ESPN."

Jamie chuckled relieved that they were back on safe ground. She sat in an armchair next to him and she put her feet up on the coffee table.

"They're going to lose anyway. Why even bother?" she asked teasingly. _I'm enjoying his company way too much._ David put his hands up in the air.

"Ouch. Please tell me you did not diss my team for the second time today." He flipped the channels until he saw a red and brown basketball court. He settled back and sighed. _Come on. Win just once. Just once, I'm asking you. _Jamie peered at the screen and then smirked.

"They're losing by twelve already."

David shook his head.

"You obviously don't know the team. They were down by twenty once and yet they won."

Jamie snorted.

"That was with Jordan on the team."

"So you do know some Bulls history," David said. Jamie crossed her arms.

"Who doesn't?"

"David!"

They both turned to see Don and Terry coming in from the balcony.

"We've got a suspect. We have to go," Don explained. David stood up right away and smiled at Jamie.

"I guess the game has to wait. Bye Jamie, I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Okay. Bye, guys."

* * *

"Okay, so O'Reilly lives next door to the Gonzales family. She and he became fast friends almost to the point where his wife got jealous. O'Reilly also works at Hamilton Clinic where Jacobson got an abortion. What do we have on O'Reilly?" Don asked David. Don was sitting in his chair in the office while David was leaning against the desk. Terry was next to David listening intently.

"She's 28. One mother and brother. Father died when she was young. She had no problems with the law as far as I can see. A clean slate. Gonzales' wife told us that the lady was engaged but the fiancé died. And that was why O'Reilly moved. She's in a book club which we already know," David answered.

"Her fiancé died. That could definitely have to do with something either as a motive or it could be affecting her psychologically," Terry remarked. Don flicked his pen a couple times before he put his hand up to his temple.

"Somehow I can't imagine her carving feathers on a body."

Terry sighed.

"I can't either but never judge a book by its cover."

David shook his head.

"I don't know. I think it's more realistic to consider an accomplice."

Don tossed the pen onto the desk.

"What did Jamie say about the next one? How did the next one die in the book?" he asked. David's forehead wrinkled.

"She said that the next person would get hit in the head."

Don sighed.

"Well, that doesn't really narrow us down to much. We're going to have to talk with O'Reilly tomorrow." Don glanced at Terry and she nodded. "And why are you talking to my sister tomorrow night?"

David laughed.

"Getting a little overprotective there, Don?" he asked.

"No, just curious," Don lied. Terry and David exchanged a furtive glance.

"She wants to interview me for her article so I invited her to my apartment so that we could talk without all the distractions in the office," he explained. Don frowned.

"In your apartment?"

David rolled his eyes while Terry tried to hold in her laughter.

"Nothing's going to happen. I don't really think of your sister in that way. Even if I did I'd be too scared to go through with it," he muttered the last sentence. Terry gave up trying to keep her chuckles in check. Don glared at her but his partner ignored it conveniently.

"Well, I think that's it for tonight. Let's go home," Don said. Terry and David nodded. David said his goodbyes and walked out. Terry was about to follow but Don grabbed hold of her arm.

"About today," he said. The mirth in Terry's eyes disappeared. She breathed in a little before answering.

"Don't worry about it. I've forgotten it already. I was just cold and you warmed me up a bit. That's all."

Disappointment clenched his guts but he made sure not to let it show on his facial expression. He had enjoyed the short moment he had on the balcony with her and he thought Terry had, too. But what did it matter? Nothing could or should happen between them. Such a relationship could endanger lives especially theirs. Frankly, Don liked Terry healthy and alive.

"Right. Good. Well, goodnight," he said emotionlessly. Terry smiled.

"Goodnight."

Then she turned away.

* * *

A/N: Well, I hope you like the chapter. I have a feeling there were a lot of grammar mistakes and it kind of went fast but I wanted to crank this out before I lost any interest. Please review and constructive criticism would be nice. And also, thank you for the past reviews! They always made my day! 


	7. A Surprise in the Night

Disclaimer: Don't own Numb3rs and _Ten Little Indians_!

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter. I'm afraid there will be quite a bit dancing around between Terry and Don however. (Sorry.) I also wanted to correct something from the last chapter. In the last chapter, I said that Terry's ex's name is James but I changed it to Joe. James and Jamie are too alike. Does anyone know what the real name is? Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter and please review! Thanks for reading!

* * *

**A Surprise in the Night**

Don couldn't sleep. He had done some pushups before getting into the guest bed at his father's house. He had tried to blank out his mind and breathe in deeply. He had even counted sheep but none of these methods worked. Don groaned and sat up against the bed stand. He rubbed his glossy eyes and then squinted at the digital clock. It read 1:03 am. Don moaned and flung his pillow across the floor.

He wasn't going to get sleep anytime soon.

So Don got up from the bed and walked out of the guestroom in his white t-shirt and flannel pants. He frowned when he saw dull light from the living room. Who else was up? Or did Alan forget to turn off all the lights? He quietly stepped into the living room and he saw his little sister huddled on the couch with her laptop. He saw her reach over to the lamp stand and pick up her mug of coffee.

Don waited until she settled her mug back down to sit in the sofa in front of her. Jamie gasped and almost jumped from her seat. She put a hand to her chest and forced herself to calm her breathing.

"What are you doing up?" she asked. Don gestured towards her laptop.

"I was going to ask you the same question."

"I'm finishing up the articles that I was supposed to write. You?"

Don leaned back and placed both hands on the back of his head.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Oh."

Don could feel the tension thickening and started to wish that he had stayed in his room. He wasn't up to a big ugly confrontation in the middle of the night. Maybe if he left now…

"So you and Terry together yet?" Jamie asked suddenly startling Don out of his reverie.

Don looked up. "What?" Jamie rolled her eyes.

"I said, 'Are you two going out yet?'"

"No. Why would you think that?" he asked defensively. Jamie snorted in response.

"You like her. She likes you."

Don rubbed his eyes.

"It's not like that. I don't like her that way. Even if I did, I wouldn't be able to do anything about it." Jamie put her laptop to the side and cupped the warm mug.

"You mean the whole work bullshit philosophy you have?"

Don gritted his teeth.

"Look, let's not get into this right now, okay? Things are…hard enough for us as it is," Don sighed. Jamie looked thoughtful for a few seconds and then sipped her coffee.

"It doesn't have to be," she said softly. Don blinked. Did she just say what he thought she said?

"What do you mean?"

"You always make things out to be bigger than it really is. You think that my leaving LA and Dad was betrayal to the family," she said bitterly and turned her face away. Don leaned forward with irritation and the beginnings of anger in his face.

"No I don't think that-"

"Bullshit."

"What-is everything I say bullshit now?" spat Don. "I just don't understand you sometimes that's all. And then you left without so much as a goodbye."

Jamie glared.

"Didn't say goodbye to you, you mean. I said goodbye to both Dad and Charlie. It wasn't my fault that you were never around," she hissed trying not to wake her father and other brother. Don stood up.

"Are you kidding me? I had work! I had training to do! My career, Jamie!"

Jamie clanged the now empty cup onto the lamp stand. She crossed her legs.

"Mine, too! Do you think I went to New York to party or something? Journalism is my career too! Why are you angry with me for doing the same thing you did? Running away from Mom's death!"

They both froze at the words that had just flown out of her mouth. Don breathed in slightly before he took a seat.

"At least I've come terms with it. You're still running."

Jamie closed her mouth at those words. Each letter clanged against her mind. And she knew that it was true but her anger flashed back. _So what if I am?_

"So if I move back to LA I'm not running anymore? Is that it, Don? Should I do what you did? You moved back when Mom was sick and after she died what did you do? What did you do, Don? You did nothing. I mean, yeah you helped with the funeral and everything but you weren't really there. You closed off from Dad, Charlie, and me. Charlie buried himself with his math. You both got to grieve in the ways you knew how."

Don closed his eyes. He didn't want to hear to this. This wasn't what he had wanted or even expected. He had already come terms with his mother's death but it still stung him. Or maybe it was more like a splash of icy water. He knew Jamie's words were brutally true but he didn't see her point.

"And you?" he asked hoarsely. Jamie sank onto the couch numbly.

"I couldn't because I thought I had to be strong for Dad. After he got okay, I realized I wasn't. That's why I had to leave, Don. I didn't want to be like you but I had to," she whispered.

"God, Jamie."

"I didn't even want to come back when my boss told me that I was on the FBI story. After the beat story, I was supposed to go to Iraq but Fitzgerald thought I was a better use here."

Don's eyes widened. His little sister in Iraq? That was worse than being out in the field. Then he narrowed his eyes.

"They told you to go to Iraq and you agreed? That's how far you needed to go to grieve? Did you want another death hanging over us?" he asked coldly. A sharp pang echoed in her heart. Is that what her brother really thought of her?

"I wasn't set on some suicide mission if that's what you mean! You should speak for yourself. FBI? Pretty dangerous isn't it?" she retorted. Don scoffed.

"It's no more dangerous than an American staying in _Iraq_."

Jamie covered her face with both hands and drew in a shaky breath. Don sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. They both thought of their last fight right before Jamie had left for New York. How they screamed at each other, called each other names, said things that made the other's blood run cold. It was very undignified and it had changed their relationship forever. Don had been sure that their bond was broken right then and there and that nothing could fix it.

"I'm going to bed," Don said. Jamie ignored him and turned to her laptop. Don sighed and walked out of the living room leaving Jamie to mull over past half hour.

* * *

"You're supposed to be in Chicago," Terry said acerbically. She was at her apartment door peering out into the hallway. In front of her was Joe DeCaper, her former husband. He looked almost exactly the same with the short brown hair and the mischievous, sarcastic, green eyes. However, Terry was surprised that Joe was not in a business suit but rather in jeans, a t-shirt and a jacket. He also had been working out more from what Terry could tell.

Joe shoved through the door and brushed against Terry's shoulder. He settled his luggage on the floor. Terry slammed the door and narrowed her eyes as Joe strode straight into the kitchen. She heard her refrigerator door open.

"Got any beer?" he called. Terry bit her lip and forced herself to keep the anger from rising too quickly. She stalked to the kitchen and found Joe chugging down a Miller Lite.

"What the hell? Joe, you can't just barge in at 1 o'clock at night!"

Joe took another swig before answering.

"Morning technically."

"I'm not getting back with you!" Terry said in a deadly steely voice. Joe threw the empty can into the garbage can. He then laughed.

"Who said anything about that?" he sauntered out of the kitchen and plopped onto her couch. "Mmm. I'm taking the couch."

"JOE!"

Joe looked up.

"What? Don't tell me you've got a date in the bedroom," he ran his eyes over her body appreciatively. "You look presentable enough."

Terry refused to blush when she realized what she was wearing. A flimsy, almost see through nightgown. She crossed her arms and stared at her ex.

"Did you just come all the way over here to annoy the crap out of me?"

"No," Joe answered as if that was the stupidest question in the world, "Why waste so much money when I can do that over the phone?"

"Then…why. Are. You. Here?"

Joe smirked and his eyes dangerously glinted with mischief that Terry was all too familiar with.

"Here as in LA or your apartment?"

"Both," Terry said as calmly as possible. Joe shuffled through a Today's News magazine and leaned against the couch with a sense of satisfaction. Or at least that's what it looked like to Terry.

"Decided I didn't like Chicago very much. The law firm was too…ritzy if you know what I mean," he commented casually. Terry snorted.

"And that didn't agree with you how?"

Joe shot her a dirty look before tossing the magazine on the table. "Well, another law firm in LA offered me a job. Said I would look into it and that's why I'm here."

Terry resisted groaning.

"But that doesn't explain why you're here. In. My. Apartment." Maybe she needed to emphasize it for his egotistical brain.

"Well, I mean you live in LA. I know where you live and I thought why not?" he answered with a feral grin. Terry's eyes sharpened to a degree where they almost became daggers.

"Hotels, Joe. There are _many_ that would be happy to accommodate you."

Joe's sly grin didn't disappear.

"Yes well. I just landed in LA an hour ago. I didn't feel like checking into a hotel. Besides, I had to see my favorite FBI agent," he teased. But his eyes were strong and solemn and they held her gaze. Terry had forgotten the intensity of his eyes and how it could distract a person.

"Joe. Why are you doing this? We are divorced. Divorced."

"That doesn't mean we can't ever see each other again," he said quietly. Terry shook her head.

"No but that's how'd I like it."

He stood up and was about to touch her cheek but Terry pulled away before he could. He let his hand limp to his side. He nodded and turned away.

"Just let me stay here for the night and I'll be out of here before you know it," he said hoarsely. Terry bit her lip.

"When?"

"In the morning before you wake up. I promise, Terry."

Terry's insides turned. Something in his voice spoke to her more than she wanted him to. He looked and felt human for the first time to her in such a long time. Almost helpless but that couldn't be it. This was Joe. The Joe she knew, the Joe she married had no weakness and was never helpless. That was part of the reason why she had married him.

"Terry," he said. _He's begging me._ She turned around and went into her bedroom and did not see the frown on Joe's face. Minutes later, she came back out with a blanket and a pillow in her arms. She dumped them on her couch.

"Fine, but I'd better see the blanket folded up nicely."

A small smile lit up his face.

"Thanks."

She started to walk away but then called out over her shoulder, "I wake up early."

"I know."

Terry froze, then regained her composure and walked back into her bedroom. She shut the door behind her and gently rested her head against the door. Emotions, questions, thoughts, memories, Joe and Don flooded her mind bringing a splitting headache. _God._ It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Charlie sighed when he heard the voices in the living room settle down. Thankfully, it seemed that their father was still asleep and wasn't aware of his oldest and youngest children fighting. He was in his bed under the covers hoping to block out some of the sound but now that it wasn't necessary he slowly pulled it off his head. Maybe the fight was what Jamie and Don needed. He knew that it wasn't nearly as big as the other fight, which he had accidentally witnessed. He winced as he remembered some of the words that they had exchanged.

_You think Mom and Dad wanted you? They were forced to take you in when your _real_ mother dropped you on the doorstep._

But it was Jamie's comment that had kicked him in the guts although Jamie hadn't meant to hurt him. Hell, she didn't even know that he had been there listening.

_You hated Mom because she didn't love you. Well, she didn't love me at all either. There were only two people in her life, Don. Dad and Charlie. So deal._

Charlie shook his head attempting to dissolve the awful memories. But that wasn't true. It was never true. Was it? No, he didn't want to think about this. He didn't need to. This was their problem. Not his. He had enough to deal with. Not that he would exactly call Amita a problem.

Their kisses had been…indescribable. They intoxicated him throughout the rest of the day even when they were talking about cruel, cold-blooded murders. The first one had been sweet but the next was urgent, needy, hot, and long. Graciously, wonderfully long. They meant so much to him that he didn't know what to do with himself. He knew at that lingering moment after pulling away from each other that their relationship had reached a turning point and there was no looking back. The mere idea scared him but it excited all of his senses too. He still wasn't sure if he loved her but he knew that his heart was getting there.

There was a tiny moment of awkwardness but it easily dissolved and everything went back to normal. _But not._ Amita helped him with his equations and formulas but this time around they exchanged glances that no longer needed to be kept secret. They both knew how they felt about each other.

But what did that mean for the future?

Were they now a couple?

Charlie panicked when he realized that Amita would be expecting more and that meant dates. He had only gone on two dates before and both had been disastrous. Oh God, what was he going to do? Charlie closed his eyes.

_Relax. It's Amita. Just being with her is all that matters._

Charlie yawned as he pulled up his covers. He would figure it out tomorrow. Equations and…all.

* * *

Jamie poked her finger through the blinds and tried to pry them open. The moonlight reflected onto her face and produced a serene glow. She removed her fingers snapping the blinds in place. She turned on her heels but stopped herself. She faced the window again. An unexplained flash of anger grasped her heart, her longs, and her throat. It felt as if someone was smothering her. Jamie quickly pulled on the strings and the blinds folded all the way up with one _swish_. Then she pushed the window up and let the cool night air tease her neck. She sighed in relief.

Jamie could breathe again.

_Mom._

Tears streamed from her eyes. Her right hand groped against the screen window feeling the contours of each square. Then she caressed it as if it was a familiar face. Yes, her mother's dimple would be right there. And that tiny scar near the corner of her lip. The mole splashed onto her right cheek. Yes, yes, yes, they were all there.

_-Jamie, honey, you have to be careful, ok?_

_-That's good. Now we just need a cup of sugar…No you are _not_ hopeless at cooking until I say so._

_-Sweetie, you're hopeless at cooking._

_-Oh my baby going to Homecoming. You're all grown up._

_-Jamie, if something happens always remember-/No, Mom. Shh. Don't say anything. /_

_-Jamie…I…love………you._

_/I love you too Mom. /_

_-Goodbye, sweetie._

_/No, Mom…don't go. Please. /_

Jamie sank to the floor her shoulders heaving. _I didn't mean to run away. Mom! I didn't mean to. So sorry. Mom, where are you? _She was sobbing openly now and she put both hands to her mouth in order to muffle the sounds. Her body rocked forward and backward as if riding out a wave that never ended. Back and forth. Back and forth. She wanted to scream in frustration for she couldn't see her mother. She couldn't recall her voice and her eyes widened as she realized that Jamie could no longer remember her mother's touch. How could any daughter forget her mother's touch?

Suddenly, she felt strong arms around her and Jamie immediately knew who it was. Don stroke her hair and pulled her against him. Jamie clutched his shirt and buried her face into his chest.

"Don, I don't remember. God, I don't remember. Don. Don."

"I'm here," he choked out. Then she asked the question in such a way that he knew the memory of it would never leave him.

"Mom. Don, where's Mommy?"

He squeezed her tighter.

"I don't know, Jamie," he whispered.

So they both sat on the floor with the moon shining on them, with their tears reflecting off stars, and with questions imbedded in their hearts. They waited for some sort of sign from up above until they realized that none would ever come.

* * *

Alan stared at his children around the table. Don and Charlie were fighting over the box of cereal while Jamie rolled her eyes. His daughter was satisfied with her strawberry Pop Tart and orange juice. Alan smiled as Jamie squealed when cereal flew out of the box and landed on her.

The scene seemed surreal almost as if it was a flashback of decades ago. However, something was off and yet fixed. Both Jamie and Don's eyes were red and puffy which was a dead giveaway that they had both cried. Charlie's eyes on the other hand were nearly sparkling with excitement and joy that Alan had never seen in his son before. As he studied each of his children's faces he realized that over the course of the night something had changed. Tension no longer remained between Jamie and Don and it was as if their relationship had been renewed. Charlie, well Alan wasn't dumb, he suspected that something big occurred between his younger son and Amita.

And he was glad for at 7:35 in the morning everything was normal.

A slew of statistics about calories in cereal flew in one ear and out the other ear. So did the FBI jargon as well as the half- hearted threats from an exasperated journalist.

Well, normal as can be in the _Eppes_ household.

* * *

A/N: I know this chapter is kind of short but I thought this would be a good place to end. I know I took some risks in this chapter especially with Joe. I know DT fans will hate me but after finding out what happened to Terry in the second season I figured I would add him in. I always wanted to find out more about Terry's ex anyway. This chapter in general was more emotional and I'm hoping it played out right or maybe it went too melodramatic. I don't know. I guess this chapter is the end of part one. Don and Jamie's relationship is pretty much repaired and Charlie and Amita have started a relationship. Part two (if I ever get around to it w/ school and everything) would include more action, DT/JoeT and now Jamie and David, which brings me to another thing. How many of you are happy with this attraction between Jamie and David? I'd like to know. Well, this is a long A/N so I'll leave now. Thanks for reading and please review. 


End file.
